Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1887-03-09

give you so much trouble for the world"
There is decision about her manner,
gentle as it is, not to be mistaken.
GAS you will, of course" says Mr.. Du-
ran, land having seen her carefully into
tho car he draws back, and let's her pro-
ceed on her way alone.
CHAPTER V.
"It may be as you say, but, my darling
girl, If you would only listen to rea-
son, p
II can't bear reason, as you ought to
know by this time, and don't think that
is very correct way to address q girl
who is engaged to be marriedn'
"a very correct way when she is en-
gagged to the wrong man."
"Do you think you are the right one"
demands she saucily.
II don't think it, I know it," says he.
"Such knowledge is, no doubt, full Of
comfort" retorts she.
Drip-drip-go the fountains indoors,
where they are sitting, behind the cool
evergreens in the largest conservatory.
Plash-plash-go the larger ones in the
Illuminated gardens outside From some
where beyond comes to them the last
dying bars of dreamy waltz-all around
them the air is heavy with the breath Of
sleeping flowers. Massareene, leaning
forward, lays his hand on hers.
I wish you would think of it, Mill
cent" he says in low tone.
"Of what? My aunt's sindignation? my
uncle's contempt? the combined wrath Of
my entire fHnily?'
"No. OF hinging off the bands that
now bind you, and of love and happiness
with me-"
"Would it be happiness?" she sighs
impatiently, and then shuts up her large
fan with an angry click. II tell you it
is not to be thought Of" she says pres
emily. "Things have gone too far for any
change to be now made. My marriage
with my cousin Grant, Boyle IS as much
fat accompli as if we had stood, he and
I, before my Lord Bishop"
"You can talk very coolly of it. It
can't, after all, be so very displeasing to
you. this idea of marrying O man you
profess not to love-" says the young man
beside her. regarding her with affronted
eyes. He rises quickly from his seat and
goes good way from her, leaning against
marble pedestal that stands in one cor
ner.
Don't pose," says Miss Grey calmly;
"I'm not photographer. And don't talk
nonsense either. I am not one Of the
hysterical sort, and can certainly talk
coolly of this marriage that is being
forced upon me. I have had time to grow
calm over 1t, you must remember, as we
were betrothed to each other when
was almost little baby in white muslin
and blue ribbons. 1t was in white mus
lin then," says she with little curious
laugh; "now ought to be in sackcloth
and ashes. feel so bad"
"And he?'' demands her companion
with an effort.
"Wears his sacriflcial wreaths with
| quite a jaunty air. I am IN heiress,
would have you remember, my good sir.
| Grant Boyle is wise in his own genera
! tion."
"Hes mighty poor lot, to my way Of
thinking" says Mr.. Massareene, in high
disgust. Sometimes his Irish breeding
makes breach through his English edu-
cation. "Don't mention his name to me
Il can't bear to hear it"
~ don't believe it would cause me
much of q pang were I never again to
hear it myself" returns Miss Grey, who,
if candor be virtue, is poss essed Of it to
an extraordinary degree.
After this q little silence reigns be-
tween them, then:
"Surely you are not mad enough to
think you will be happy with him?"
says Massareenc eXcitedly. "He'll be
the death of you. Looks like q man who
would break woman's heart. After
all, supposing you do quarrel with your
| people-what thenW
"Then I should not only forfeit their
esteem, ,shich, after all''-with swift
glance at him from under her long
lashes-''means good deal to me, but
1 should cease to be auntie's heiress, and
have my name struck out of Uncle limo
thy's will. All that, my dear Gerald,
would mean that 1 should be-still u
lovely girl, no doubt"-with u rather
constrained laugh-"but Us certainly a
penniless one.
She lifts her eyes resolutely as she
says this, though it costs her something
to do it, and looks keenly at him. If she
had expected any disappointment, or
! blank, or awkwardness OH his decidedly
ugly face, she is mistaken. Gerald
Massareenc looks, if anything, relieved.
in that now hope seems to have entered
into him.
"My dearest girl, try to face that
thought" he says, leaving his distant
position, and once more dropping into the
seat near her-much nearer this time.
"I'm not Cr9sus; but if you could
make up your mind to it, we might be
able to make both ends meet
year." says Miss Grey, who disdains
subterfuge. II found that out long ago
by making inquiries"
Massareene laughs.
"You are worth dozen of your sex
in every way, but especially in one
way" he says-''you never go in for de-
ceit, however harmless, and you seldom
beat about the bush. Yet 700 doesn't
cXaggerate it, and-ahem!-there is Gl-
ways, you know, the chance of the title
when my uncle-Lortl Ballymore -
"Poufn interrupts Mllicent, con-
temptuously. "Whcn you have slain
your uncle, you mean, who is almost a3
young as YOURSELF and who is as likely
us not to have an heir ut any moment"
"Not at any moment, my dear girl
The last--a third girls only fortnight
old, and several moments, at all events,
must elhpse before the arrival of the
heir. And if it shouldn't come"--
But Miss Grey declines to listen to any
such weak imaginings, and Mr.. Massa-
reene, a little crushed, rather falls out Of
the conversation.
Being young man, however, of in
domitable courage, and an unbounded
SuDDly of pcrSeyerance he presently re-
covers himself, and returns to the charge
valiuntly.
II can see am hateful to you," says
he.
"Oh, no! -politely-''you
are not that"
"You can't endure me-"
81 can, indeed, without the slightest
trouble"
''1'm an ugly fellow, know"
every one can't be US handsome as
Grant," demurely.
"Oh! to the devil with Granit!" says
Mr.. Massareene, losing his patience